Falling Awake
by InfallibleLove
Summary: LP/NH/BN. AU. A sudden death rocks Tree Hill, shattering it's residents. Will they ever find their way back, or will they simply lose their way along the journey?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, so this idea came to me at about 2 AM. I don't know what I'm thinking trying to do two fanfics at a time, so I need everyone to help me. Please review and give positive OR negative feedback on this. Also, please say if you'd like for me to focus more on continuing this or Feel the Silence. It's up to you guys. :)**

**About this one, I AM a NH shipper, don't get me wrong. This was just something I really wanted to try. Any questions you have about timeline, relationships, anything, should be answered in the story. If not, feel free to ask me.**

"Grief is like the ocean: it's deep, dark, and bigger than all of us. And pain is like a thief in the night. Quiet. Persistent. Unfair. Diminished by time, faith, and love."

Black. It was a simple color. Some people didn't even think it should be considered a color. Peyton did. She had always thought of it as a representation of the darkness that loomed in the world. That was her personal reason for agreeing that it should be worn at funerals. Other colors showed too much emotion. Black was void. Cruel. Trying to grasp at a feeling that couldn't be spoken, but would sting your soul like an electrical current at unexpected times. The feeling of sorrow and remorse. Regret for unspoken words and unfelt touches.

As she stood in silence in the crowd of people, she began to glance at her surroundings. Lucas had a comforting hand on Nathan's shoulder. Nathan was looking downward, unable to watch his wife be buried into the fresh earth. The church had wanted to use plastic grass to cover her cold body. Nathan had refused. It had to be natural, real. Every part of this was so very real.

Everyone in attendance was dressed in black, of course. As she looked around, Peyton wondered what color displayed this emotion? Grief, hurt, depression. What actions showed those emotions?

Nathan was a picture of stoicism. He was void of feeling, trying to remain strong. He would never let his son, his brother, or his beloved friends see him cry. Even Lucas had shed tears for his best friend. Not Nathan. He wouldn't break down. He was Nathan Scott.

Jamie was only almost three years old. He wouldn't even remember his mother. This oddly made Peyton feel lucky. She had known Anna for eight years. She still remembered her scent. Young, precious Jamie wouldn't even be able to remember Haley's face.

Brooke had flown down to Tree Hill for the funeral, but wasn't in the crowd. Instead she was at Nathan's house, looking after James Lucas Scott. He was far to young to comprehend death. It was best that he didn't watch his mother's body disappear into the ground.

Lucas had been Peyton's best friend for almost five years. After he had started dating Brooke in their junior year, he and Peyton had grown close. He confessed all of his relationship, family, and school problems to her constantly. She did the same. Once Brooke had realized Peyton and Lucas talked more than she and Lucas ever had, she wisely broke if off with him.

Maybe becoming friends with Peyton partially caused the guilt Lucas was feeling right now. Haley had started dating Nathan around the same time Lucas had begun to date Brooke. They had grown apart. The conversations turned vague, as they now had other people to bear their intimate secrets to. None of that meant they didn't care deeply about each other, it just meant they had found stronger connections with others.

Everyone had known about Nathan and Haley's recent marital problems. Nathan had been so determined to make his NBA fantasy a reality that he had temporarily forgotten about his family. In the words of Brooke, they were Naley. They had to work things out. But not this. Haley was gone now. Forever in a place that no one else knew. Everything that had happened could never be forgiven. It could never be taken back.

The idea of death had always been frightening and unimaginable. The concept of it had been seen and experienced when Dan had taken the life of Keith. It had been no different then. Keith had left a child, just as Haley had. The impact of this blow, this intangible devastation, was going to leave deep and lingering bruises on all of them. Nothing would ever be quite the same again.

Sure, Nathan might remarry. Sure, the James' had other daughters. No person would again be Haley James Scott. No one would ever sing the lyrics of 'Halo' into a microphone, captivating a crowded room. More importantly, no woman would ever be a mother again to little Jamie. No person could replace the feeling of what it was like to know Haley. They couldn't fill the emptiness she had left behind.

Snapping out of her trance, Peyton noticed the large of group of people had begun to move. The funeral was over, everyone was headed for Nathan's house to the wake.

"Hey," Lucas said as he approached her, embracing her with strong arms.

"Hi. How's Nathan doing?" Peyton replied, while moving to return his firm hug.

"Not very good. I'm pretty sure he didn't even flinch during the whole thing."

Lucas now had stopped embracing her, but had pulled her to him with his arm wrapped her shoulder.

"Everything's going to be okay, though, right? We're all going to get through this?" she asked hopefully, needing to hear her closest friend reassure her, as he always did.

"I don't know, Peyt. I really don't know."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello all. So, Feel the Silence will be coming to end soon, most likely. I can't find anything else to do with it, and I kind of want it to end all happy and blissed out. Instead, I'm transferring my creativity to this story. It didn't get great feedback for the first chapter, but maybe it will just become a cult classic. ;) I know a lot of you like Feel the Silence, and I'm really, really sorry. There will be a few more chapters, though. **

**Anyways, happy reading!**

The sound of crunching metal. The screech of tires, desperate not to collide with another vehicle. The sudden impact and pressure of the collision. It was all so inhumane, so wreckless.

Nathan awoke to all of these images and sounds, playing in his mind like a television he couldn't shut off. That impact was what had killed Haley. It was haunting him every second, making him isolated from his surroundings. Jamie would come near him, toddling around, wondering where "momma" was. Nathan couldn't answer that. He would simply turn away, the response to the young boy's naive question left open.

The pressure of trying to make this right for his son was too much for him. Instead, he had begun to turn to loneliness and alcohol. Brooke was watching Jamie during the daytime now, until things calmed down. He was grateful to Brooke, even though it was only because she was now the one who would have to try and explain what had happened in a way an infant would understand.

Brooke spoiled Jamie when he was around her, gave him everything his precious heart desired. The one wish she couldn't grant was his plaintive cry of "Momma?".

--

"Lucas. Lucas, wake up."

He stirred slightly at the feeling of a warm hand shaking his arm. Turning over, he saw a blonde with frizzy, disheveled hair and an angst-ridden look on her beautiful face.

"I dreamed it again."

"Peyton, dreamed what?"

"That it was me. That I'm the one who's dead."

Her friend nodded. Lately, he had selfishly wished that he was the one who had died. He peeled back the comforter, revealing an empty half of the bed. Patting it gently, he motioned for her it lay down.

"Luke.. are you sure?"

"Why else would you be here? I didn't give you that key five years ago for nothing. Come here."

She settled onto the warm bed, facing away from him. He wrapped a strong arm around her, pulling her to nestle against his body. Stroking her hand, watching the skin prickle in chills on her bare arms, he softly whispered to her as she begin to fall asleep:

"I'll always be saving you."

--

The next morning, Peyton left before Lucas had woken up. During the night, she had heard him softly crying his sleep. He was Lucas. He couldn't cry. She couldn't face him to talk to him about it. That would be on the highest level of awkward, and that wasn't something she felt like mastering right now.

She headed for Nathan's house to deliver a package of food to him. He had plenty of food left over from the wake, but this was really just an excuse to see how he was doing.

Opening the door slowly, she called out into the seemingly deserted house.

"Nate? You here?"

No getting any kind of response, she quietly stepped in the large home. Looking around to find that he wasn't anywhere downstairs, she walked hurriedly up the stairs, beginning to get curious as to where he was. Walking into the master bedroom, that once was Haley's also, she found him passed out face down on the bed, a whiskey bottle in hand. Sighing loudly, she pulled the covers over him and stepped out of the room. Pulling out her cell phone, she began to dial a very familiar number.

"Hey. I know you're busy right now, and I'm sorry, but I need you to come and help Nathan. And Brooke? Don't bring Jamie."

--

After dropping Jamie off with his Uncle Lucas, Brooke headed down the suburban road to the Scott residence. Thinking that Haley would never again answer the door, her eyes began to well up with a few moist tears.

She told herself that she couldn't do that, because Nathan was hurting in a way she would never began to understand. Crying in front of him would be incredibly selfish. She was Brooke Davis. She wouldn't cry.

Pulling into the long driveway, she quickly took the key out of the ignition and ran to the door. Peyton had left it open. Walking quietly upstairs and into the bedroom, she saw his large figure sprawled out in his drunken stupor. Unaware. Dazed. Drowning the pain with unbelievable amounts of alcohol.

Walking with a fast step to him, she shook him. Gently. And then harder, with an urgency.

"Nate? Nathan? Wake up. You have to wake up."

She started to hit his muscled back with her small hands.

"Get up! Get up! Damn it, Nathan. Get up, get up. Wake up!"

She had begun to shout, raising her raspy voice as high as it would go without breaking.

He stirred, looking around, trying to adjust his eyes to the light.

"Brooke?" he croaked, "Where's Jamie?"

"You think I was going to let him see you like this? He's with Lucas."

"Oh. Could you.. could you keep him for the night?"

She let out a long, frustrated sigh.

"How long are you going to ignore your own son?"

"C'mon," he protested as he tried to get up, stumbling slightly, "it's not like that."

She shook her head.

"I'll keep him for however long you're... like this," she finally said, looking him up and down.

"He can't see you like that. He already has no idea what's going on. Do you know how much it would hurt him to see his daddy drunk and stupid? His idol, his role model?"

"Brooke..."

"Don't. I know you're hurting right now. I get it. But you've got to find some other way to handle it! If you don't, you might lose a son and a friend as well."

--

Peyton tenatively creaked open the brown door to Lucas' room, peaking her head in. She knew Brooke had already came by to pick Jamie back up. Hearing a soft, whimpering noise, she fully opened the door.

Lucas was crying, gazing down mournfully at an old, faded picture of he and Haley from years ago.

"Lucas."

She walked across the room, embracing him in her small arms. He grabbed a fistful of blonde hair, tugging. She rubbed his back soothingly.

"Shh. It's okay. Shh."

Pulling away from her, an outraged expression crossed his face.

"No, Peyton! It's not okay. So stop saying that, and stop asking me. Nothing's okay. Haley's dead! Gone. I'm still here! She has a son. She has Nathan. I have no one. It should've been me who got by that car! I should be dead right now!"

Looking hurt and shocked by the sudden outburst, she sat down wearily on his bed, only speaking three words.

"You have me."

He walked over to her, sitting down beside her.

"I know," he said, reaching over to stroke her cheek, while planting a kiss on her forehead. Repeating the same words, he spoke again, more to himself.

"I know."

--

Haley had been at the school on her last night, staying late to grade papers. She had been a little fatigued, but she was always a careful driver. She had a son to watch over, after all.

Turning to go on the road that led towards downtown Tree Hill, the oncoming car ran directly into the driver's side of her SUV. The impact had caused so many internal injuries, she had died almost immediately.

No one knew who had hit her, they had disappeared by the time the ambulance and police arrived. Nathan was the first one by her side, staying beside her even when the sheet was solemnly covering her cold body.

--

After Brooke had stormed from the house, Nathan had fallen back asleep. He now awoke with a cold sweat. He looked around hurriedly, wondering if the screeching of brakes he had heard was real. Of course, it wasn't.

Haley had been at school. He was bringing her a basket with a small dinner for the two of them in it.

He had recognized their car as it was turning out of the school, as he was nearing it.

The brakes had gotten locked for a moment. A split second. That was all it took to hit her.

He had gotten her from the car, and then quickly drove his mangled car away.

When he returned, she was already almost gone. There had been so much blood. His car had hit her so hard.

He began to cry, uncontrollable sobs wracking his body, shaking him.

He had killed his wife.

**Dun dun dun. Angry? Confused? Leave a review :)**


	3. Chapter 3

_The pounding of rhythmic footsteps crunching into crisp leaves._

_Moving legs, moving at such a fast speed the two limbs appeared blurry to an onlooker._

_The sound of feet hitting the ground matching the sound of a beating heart._

The sun was setting, darkness was hovering. Nathan was running. Running as fast as his athletic body could take. He had just driven his mangled car off to a wooded forest, and was returning to where his wife's mangled body lay.

Flashing lights surrounded him. His eyes adjusted to them, taking in the scene. The paramedics and police had arrived. An officer made his way towards Nathan.

"Son? You're Nathan Scott, right?"

He panted out a muffled 'yes', trying desperately to catch his breath.

"You're under arrest for murder."

--

Nathan jolted awake, once again sweating and out of breath. It was just a dream. No one suspected him for the accident. It really was an accident. A horrible, life-altering accident. The arrest may have been a dream, but Haley's death was so very real.

Then his mind shifted to Jamie. Where was he? Oh, right. He was with Brooke, as he had been for the past couple of days.

Every time Nathan would be see Brooke, she would simply shake her head, silently judging him. He didn't blame her.

--

Across town in the house of Lucas Scott, he and Peyton were tightly cuddled together in his bed. They appeared to be sound asleep, but Peyton's eyes were open. Lucas slowly eased himself out of bed, trying to disturb her. She felt him shift and leave the bed, but she still remained motionless. He gathered his iPod, put on shoes, and walked towards the door, tiptoeing.

"Where are you going?" she asked timidly, her soft voice echoing out into the darkness.

He turned around slowly.

"Hey, sorry, did I wake you up? I was going to go for a run."

"No, I couldn't sleep either. Uh, Luke?" she called after him as he started to open the door.

"Yeah, Peyt?"

"Can I come?"

"Well, sure, Blondie. Get some shoes on."

She laced up her black Converses, and he set his iPod back on the table. He'd rather be talking to her than listening to music.

They headed out the door, Lucas leading her by placing his hand on the small of her back. She felt his lingering touch, but didn't think anything of it. Intimate, gentle touches was just something Lucas did. Stroking her hand, burying his hands in her hair, rubbing her arm to see if chill bumps would appear.

The two ran for what seemed like hours, talking about anything that came to mind.

How was Lucas' writing going? Had Peyton signed any bands with her label yet? How long was Brooke staying in Tree Hill? How was Jamie doing?

After they had talked to an extent, it became silent. The blonds just continued running, only hearing their own blood pumping throughout their bodies.

Suddenly, Peyton stumbled over an unseen branch, falling downward towards the hard cement of the sidewalk. Lucas threw out his arms to catch her fall, but instead she pulled him down with her. He landed on top of her, panting out curses. She laughed, reaching up to run her hand through his thick locks.

"You really need to stop trying to save me."

He laughed shyly, shifting to rest his weight on his arms, placing one on either side of her body. He didn't want to crush her small frame with his.

"Peyton, you know I never will."

He looked down at her with a certain wonderment filling his brilliant blue eyes. She blushed, looking away. When she turned her head to meet his eyes again, she began to think back on their past. They had been best friends for six years. They had never once tried dating. Yet, whenever she was in this close of physical contact with him, she seemed to remember kissing him, holding him, knowing every part of his body. She pushed the thought away, not wanting any awkwardness to ruin the moment.

Lucas rolled away from her, standing up. He extended his hand, a gesture to suggest she should get up off of the sidewalk. She took his hand. They slowly jogged back to his house, not speaking the entire time.

He flashed his mind back to what had just happened. He hadn't been that close to her since, well, college.

He remembered the night Peyton had come to visit him at Gilmore College, since she had been living in Tree Hill. They had drank. A lot. He had remained sober enough to remember what had happened. She, on the other hand, hadn't. They had been goofing around by themselves in Lucas' dorm room, drinking to anything they could think of.

_"To success!" Peyton giggled._

_They both drank._

_"To America!" Lucas said with a British accent._

_Another drink._

_"To basketball!" Peyton proclaimed, sloshing her plastic cup around._

_"Hell yes!" Lucas shouted._

_They drank once again. Peyton crawled on all fours to Lucas, sitting next to him on the floor._

_"Are we pathetic or what? We're two fine college kids! We should be out getting laid at a party somewhere," Peyton said, slurring her words together. She fiddled with the collar of his shirt as she spoke._

_He swallowed loudly. Things weren't supposed to be awkward when you were this drunk._

_She leaned in to kiss him on the lips, trying to fill the emptiness in her life that only he knew. He pressed his lips firmly against hers, moving his hand to cup her cheek. They were both still on the floor, so she moved quickly to lay on top of him, pulling his shirt over his head. He knew what they were doing. They weren't stupid. This wasn't just meaningless sex. It would change everything._

_Clothes were flying in every direction. The alcohol in their systems clouding their logical thinking, they both managed to back into Lucas' bedroom, Peyton's legs wrapped around his waist. Lucas was clumsily trying to keep her up, gripping her thighs._

_They both fell asleep as soon as it over. Lucas woke up just as the sun was rising that morning to get dressed. Peyton would freak out if she found him naked in bed with her. Once she woke up, wondering where all her clothes were, Lucas told her that she had taken them all off after she got under the covers. That answer satisfied her, as she was too hungover to think straight._

She didn't remember it. Three years later, she still didn't.

How could you just block out an entire night of your life? Especially the night where you had sex with one of your best friends?

--

Peyton was rattled out of a daydream by a persistent knocking on Lucas' door. She had been trying to remember where this intense deja'vu she had felt during their run had came from. Oh well, she thought, slightly shrugging her shoulders.

Opening the door, she saw the gloomy darkness that was embodied by Nathan Scott.

"Hey Nate. Glad to see you without a bottle in your hand. Come on in," Peyton said, sarcasm tinging her voice.

"Yeah, um," he fidgeted with this hands, glancing around.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just need to talk to Lucas. Is he here?"

"No, he went out to get breakfast. Is it anything I can help you with?"

"Uh, no. Just forget it, Sawyer. I'll see you later," he said in a rushed tone, backing out the door.

Peyton mumbled a confused "alright?" and looked around, wondering if she had imagined what just happened.

--

Lucas arrived back a few minutes later, carrying a Dunkin Donuts bag.

"Powered sugar donut holes, anyone?" he playfully asked, knowing that they were Peyton's favorite breakfast food.

"Oh, hey Luke. I didn't hear you come in."

Worried by her morose reaction, a frown appeared on Lucas' face.

"Peyton? What's wrong?"

"Nate stopped by here, looking for you. He was acting really sketchy and weird. It kind of creeped me out. I know he's gone through so much lately, but it seems like he's just dealing with it.. strangely."

"Do you want me to go talk to him?"

"If you wouldn't mind," Peyton said, with her facial expression that she knew Lucas couldn't say 'no' to.

"Oh, alright. Anything for you, my dear."

Peyton giggled slightly at his playful term of endearment.

"Okay, now gimme those donut holes!" she exclaimed, grasping for the bag.

He laughed, looking at her stuff the sugary circles in her adorable mouth. If only every day could be this way.

--

Brooke rocked a young boy in her arms, whispering sweet, mothering words into his ear. She never wanted him to feel like he was alone in the world. He would always have his godmother, she was certain of that.

He began to bawl for a specific toy, each cry breaking her heart.

She could practically feel her heart shatter when he reached his tiny hand to touch her face and said: "Momma."

Just then, the doorbell rang.

"Coming! Hold on!" Brooke shouted, gathering her emotions back together quickly.

She walked to the door at a fast pace, surprised by who she saw on the other side of it.

"Hey, Brooke. I need to talk to you."

"Sure, Nathan, come on in."

--

Peyton felt the odd sense she had earlier again that afternoon. Like she had felt kisses from Lucas on her neck, his touch to her cleavage, the feeling of him moving inside of her. It was coming to her in flashes, like her mind was desperately trying to recall it. Once again, she was shaken from her thoughts by Lucas standing in the doorway.

"Peyton, I went to go see Nathan, but he wasn't there. I'm sorry," he said sincerely, walking towards her.

"Oh, yeah, it's fine. Lucas, don't worry about it," she replied absentmindedly.

"C'mon, Peyt. Where's your head at?"

He placed a hand on the small of her back as he had done earlier. And then, the second his hand connected with her clothed skin, she remembered.

She gasped faintly, brushed his hand away, standing up.

"Lucas, why is it that I think I've slept with you before?"

He looked taken aback, wondering where this sudden question had came from.

"Because you have. Look, Peyton, we were really drunk and.."

"Get out."

"Come on, Peyton! It's my house."

She backed further away from him, the rage and confusion inside her growing.

"I don't care! Get _out_!"

He walked to the door, throwing his hands up in a surrender motion.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before Peyton, really. There just... wasn't a good time."

She let out an abrupt sarcastic laugh, speaking her last words of the conversation.

"Just get out, Luke."

He turned the doorknob, walked out and slammed the door behind him.

**Sorry for the wait! Reviews are love (:**


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